


The Olden Days

by Laywithmeart



Category: Line of Duty (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, I do NOT own any of these characters, Pre-breakup, Secret Relationship, but I do love ‘em.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:01:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29611200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laywithmeart/pseuds/Laywithmeart
Summary: A time in which Mike still made her elating, false-hearted promises.
Relationships: Lindsay Denton/Michael Dryden
Kudos: 11





	The Olden Days

A drowsy Lindsay stumbles her way downstairs, still partially claimed by the mist of sleep, still tingly in all the right places. She finds him where the light is on, her lover, standing in the kitchen by the window holding a steaming mug of tea. He appears to be lost in thought.

_He is beautiful,_ she thinks.

Fine and strong. The imposing sort.

He’s heard her soft footfalls down the stairs, sensed her entrance, and turns to flash her his minute smirk. A telltale sign of his current desire.

“Well, well, DI Denton. Don’t you look delectable in my shirt.”

He sips his tea slowly, his eyes roaming up and down her body. “One hell of a sight for sore eyes you make.”

She chuckles and steps close enough for the camomile scent to fill the air around her.

“Well, thank you. _Sir_.”

Her mouth is soft against his in greeting and her hands find his hips, the warmth of his flesh always feeling like it was made for her to hold. Pulling herself against him further, he chuckles shortly before bending forward to kiss the tip of her nose, her eyelids, caressing an eyebrow with his lips and she soaks up the domesticity of their blooming courtship as he softly sways with her.

Though they may not have to work tomorrow, she knows he won’t - _can’t_ \- stay to spend their day off with her. She does not want to think about the why of the situation, tries to push the thought away.

As if sensing her inner turmoil, he reminds her. “Soon, Linda.”

She hums her approval, letting his words calm her. Eventually, she reaches for his mug, setting it down gently beside them, tugs his now free hand to grab a hold of her backside.

“Let’s make the most of the rest of the night then.” She suggests with a smile.

Showing her his willingness, Mike grips her firmly and easily lifts her onto the counter. The cold of the granite hits her skin and a rash of goosebumps envelop her bare thighs. Gladly, husbandly, the warmth of his wandering palms soon travels up and down her long, smooth legs. He makes fast work of unbuttoning her shirt, his mouth landing on her nipples as soon as they’re exposed, his tongue laving away.

For as long as they’ve been doing this, Mike has been a breast man. And boy is she glad she’s got a good enough pair to impress him. Round, firm, a nice handful.

She stares down at him, slack-jawed, until he releases her with a loud pop. Her hand slips in his boxer shorts, strokes him to his full potential, getting that blood flowing into his cock for one last time this evening. He paws her hips, expertly pulling her panties aside, pulling his own underwear down at the same time. She watches as he grabs his cock to brush himself against her, coating himself in her slick juice.

It’s a wonderful kind of torture this waiting game of his. He lets her throb, eyes her rolling hips as her chest flushes pink in anticipation. Fuck, how she loves this. Loves welcoming him into the space between her parted knees, inviting him in. Loves how his groans turn her on further, how the mumbled obscenities make her pussy tingle with excitement.

“Is this what you want?” he asks, his face a mere inch away from hers.

“Yes,” she manages to whisper in reply.

And then _finally_ , finally he guides himself into her body.

Though he starts out slow, it doesn’t take him long to abandon the easy pace. He gives it to her exactly how she likes it. High-pitched moans tumble from her lips without reserve, the harsh slaps of skin on skin fill the room, her ankles lock behind his back and her nails leave a clear message to her rival.

So close to euphoria, she shifts her gaze to where they’re joined and watches with rapture as he inserts himself again and again, thrusting into her wetness with fervor. He must be close too because he near-impossibly hardens his thrusts, fastening them to make her gush, shudder and gasp in his arms.

He takes a final moment to scrape his teeth over the skin of her neck, biting, licking the salty sweat off her skin, before he too comes apart, shooting his load as far into her as he can.

His breath is heavy and hot, strong from exertion.

“I can’t wait to do this every day with you.”

She so badly wants to believe him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


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